Creating My Luna Moth Polymer Clay Collection

If you’ve ever seen a Luna moth in person, you know how magical and otherworldly they are—their soft, green glow, delicate wings, and almost ethereal presence. They’ve been on my to-make list for years, but creating my Luna Moth Wing Collection was not something I wanted to rush. I wanted to do it right. And as with all of my polymer clay wing pieces, that meant diving into a very detailed and time-consuming process—one that’s as rewarding as it is intricate.

Finding the Perfect Luna Moth Green

Before I ever started sculpting, I spent days perfecting the color. I don’t use paint in any of my polymer clay work—everything you see in my pieces is created from clay itself, with colors I blend and build from scratch. For the Luna moths, I knew I needed a very specific shade of green: soft, luminous, almost glowing. So I started experimenting.

I mixed translucent clay with precise amounts of alcohol ink and mica powders, keeping careful notes of every ratio and recipe I tried. I baked at least five different iterations, tweaking the balance each time until I landed on the one. That magical Luna moth green. I actually ended up saving that color mix for months, knowing I wasn’t quite ready to begin the full project, but wanting it ready for the moment I was.

The Art of the Clay Cane

Creating wings like these is no small task. For all of my moth and butterfly collections, I use a technique called polymer clay cane work. Think of it like assembling a puzzle out of clay. I sculpt and layer colored clay into a block (or “cane”) that, when sliced, reveals a tiny, intricate design—like a moth wing. Every element, every vein and dot in the wing, is a tiny piece of clay that I’ve individually shaped and placed.

For example, all the little dots in my monarch wings? Each one is its own little rod of clay that I’ve rolled out by hand.

Once the cane is complete, I move on to the reduction process, which is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. I carefully compress and stretch the large cane, slowly reducing it down to a smaller size without distorting the details. This part takes a lot of patience and a steady hand, but it’s so rewarding to watch the design shrink down and take form. I make cuts throughout the reduction to create different sizes of wings—some larger statement pieces, and others teeny tiny.

Creating the Luna Moth Collection felt like a full-circle moment. After months of planning, color testing, and gathering inspiration, finally watching the first wing slices come out of the cane was like seeing magic come to life.

The Beauty of Handmade

One of the things I love most about working this way is that no two collections are ever truly the same. Even if I follow the exact same steps and use the same clay colors, each batch has its own unique quirks and character. That’s the beauty of handmade work—every pair of wings carries its own story.

Thank you for following along on this journey with me. I’m so excited to continue bringing more of the natural world into tiny, wearable forms of art.

Until next time,
Evie